


When Percy is Sick

by newtypeshadow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-06
Updated: 2005-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtypeshadow/pseuds/newtypeshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for OliverPercyImprov yahoo group, prompt #32: One of our boys (Percy or Oliver) is sick, how does the other make him all better again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Percy is Sick

When Percy is sick, Oliver only knows because Percy's secretary at the Ministry owls him directly at the quidditch pitch in Australia (or Mexico, or Britain,...) or his flat in Glasgow. Percy is never sick, in his mind, and comes to work sniffling and shuffling, batting brilliant red curls out of drooping lids unaffected by PepperUp, and fiddling with his horn-rimmed glasses as if they are somehow responsible for the constant unfocusing of his eyes. His wastebasket fills with the white of soiled tissues and crumpled parchment, the work piled on his desk seems more daunting than the previous day, and the urge to catch a wink or two hovers unwelcomely in the back of his sluggish mind. By the time Oliver owls Melinda back with the promise to get Percy taken care of, the prim Weasley sounds more Snape-ish than self-important, and has sent no less than four people cowering from his office.

When Percy is sick, Oliver _apparates_ in from wherever Puddlemere has taken him. He strides into the Ministry exuding confidence, charm, and purpose, so that though he exchanges dozens of small flirtations and shoulder-claps from the phone booth to Percy's door, people don't stop him for autographs or wheedle him into lunch. Outside Percy's door, Oliver and Melinda will discuss Percy's behavior and symptoms in low voices, chuckling and frowning in their turn, before Oliver barges in without knocking, Melinda feigns helpless confusion, and Percy looks murderous until he realizes that it's Oliver.

Then he looks suspicious, because when it's quidditch season, Oliver only picks him up on lunch breaks for special occasions, and when Percy is sick. And Percy is not sick, is never sick, and looks fit to kill—rather than kiss—his lover for suggesting by his mere presence that something might be wrong. Which, of course, there isn't.

When Percy is sick, Oliver makes up occasions and surprises, and Percy's staff steps up efficiency so the driven Weasley won't hesitate as long before taking the rest of the day off. The two go out to eat from the Ministry, and Oliver and watches his lover gamely struggle down soup and toast while looking positively green at Oliver's enormous, pungent, meat-filled platter. The Scotsman suggests uncertainly that Percy looks unwell, and blames the restaurant, which Percy quickly defends, blaming instead a smoker in the corner or some fish he ate for dinner. They take a walk because Percy says it should clear his lungs, and Oliver knows it'll wear his lover out. He lets himself be pushed into dominating the conversation, and subtly steers them to the redhead's home through the maze of sidewalks, people, and busy streets.

When Percy is sick, Oliver takes the keys after their walk and lets them into Percy's flat. He sits the tired man on the second-hand couch, takes his coat, and kisses him until his mind agrees to stay put even though Percy's body had barely the energy to stumble through the door. Oliver bustles around the kitchen, noisily pretending to have forgotten what is where, and when he comes back five minutes later with a cup of hot tea and a glass of water, Percy is nearly asleep. His glasses slide down his pale, freckled nose; his hands, while still reflexively curled, have relaxed; his face has begun to go slack; his mouth hangs open the tantalizing dark breath of space that makes Oliver want to kiss him awake. Then Percy sniffles himself awake instead, and Oliver offers him green tea and a shoulder to sag into, or a foot massage, and then the Scotsman lets the accent Percy so loves caress his lover into heavy, dreamless sleep.

After changing his clothes and putting him in bed, Oliver always orders flowers for Percy's department with the flat's muggle phone, and sends the bouquet off with Hermes when it arrives with the delivery of soup, soda, and crackers.

Percy only sleeps deeply after sex, and when he's sick. Any other night he sleeps warily, because until the final end of Voldemort, he always had Death Eaters, twins, or spies to worry about. When Oliver stays in, he trusts the quidditch player to protect him, and when Percy is sick, his body shuts down without regard to safety. Oliver is always with him anyway, and when it's not Oliver, it's his mum Percy finds waiting in his kitchen when he gets home from work.

When Percy is sick, he never complains. It is precisely for this reason that so many people try to take care of him. Oliver stays for three or four days and _apparates_ to practice and games, even though it saps his energy. He sleeps in the guest room after the second night, when Percy dejectedly sets his quill and miscellaneous reports aside and admits he might be under the weather, and he'd feel just awful if Ollie caught whatever's caught him by sleeping in the same room. Molly Weasley floos in with a basket of home cooked meals for Oliver, assorted broths and juice for Percy, and wizard's flu or cold medicines that can be slipped into drinks and food without changing the taste. Melinda owls a card signed by the department and Mr Weasley; Puddlemere sends another card, which the coach grudgingly signs while glaring at Oliver; the twins send a bizarre contraption that shocks Percy into distrusting the real get-well present; Penelope Clearwater sends soothing records; Hermione sends a lighthearted, informative book. When he fumbles awake the second afternoon, Percy is always surprised at the number of owls at his window bearing gifts, cards, and letters. He can't see why Bill sends healing charms from Malaysia, or why anyone outside the family is concerned with his welfare when really, he was just a bit tired, and some conference or charity ball is to blame.

When Percy is sick, he can't stand to be idle even if he can barely move. Oliver entertains him with current world news, stories of friends, or books and letters interspersed with witty commentary that leaves his charge in stitches. When Percy is too stubborn to rest, the Scotsman bores him with complex quidditch strategy spoken with a heavy accent, or simply lies beside him on the sweaty sheets. When the redhead wakes, his lover is leaning cross-legged against the headboard, or curled up in a chair beside the bed. When Percy is hungry, Oliver is already returning from the kitchen with a tray; when he's thirsty, the large, callused hands are steadying a mug being held to dry, cracked lips. When the redhead pouts, Oliver removes his glasses and kisses him into a smile. When Percy is sick, Oliver is there infusing him with joy until he's well again.


End file.
